


A Beast's Burden

by ausmac



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: BDSM, Dom/sub, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 21:27:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9142960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ausmac/pseuds/ausmac
Summary: Sometimes the only way the powerful can achieve peace is by allowing someone to make them less powerful.  A gift to my small Varrosh channel on Discord.





	

If he had to choose which part of him hurt the most, it would probably be his cock.

Not that it had been injured – oh no, it was perfectly intact.  Problem was, it had a ring around it, at the base.  When it had been slid onto him there had no discomfit but now there was.  Really, really bad discomfit.

Garrosh Hellscream started to whimper and he choked it back, so it came out as wheezy cough.  The voice of his tormentor came from behind him, out of view, right next to his left ear.  “What did you say?”  Breath whispered over his wet skin.  “Did I hear, please stop Master, I can’t take anymore?”

“Fuck you!”

Low, throaty laughter came in response to that and a tongue slid across the piercings in his earlobe.  “You’re nothing if not predictable, beast. “  A hand stroked possessively over the muscles of his shoulder.  “Such a large, strong animal.  A beast of burden.  I can see these shoulders strapped into a harness…” The fingers trailed across his back, lingering on the still-damp wounds there.  “Leather and iron-wrought rings, bound tight across the chest.  With a bit in your mouth and a saddle on your shoulders.”  The hand continued to wander.  “I’d wear spurs.” Down his ribs, circling around to his stomach.  “I’d dig them into you, to make you obey.  And you would obey, wouldn’t you, beast, once you were properly broken.”

His arms were spread wide, held apart by ropes through the bindings on his wrists, the same as those on his ankles.  He could move – just – but not enough.  Certainly not enough to escape from the body set against his back in such relaxed contact, as if he were something just to be laid against.  His lips curled and he spat his response.

“Undo my hands and we’ll see who gets broken.  You humans smash so easily.”

“Oh, I don’t think so.  You haven’t asked me nicely yet.”  The arms circled him and came to rest over his groin, fingers sliding over the cock ring.  He hissed at the feel of that hand touching him there, so careless of his power.  He sensed a drop of liquid leak from the tip of his cock.  The chest on his back vibrated.  “Some part of you enjoys the idea of being my beast.  Sitting at my feet, serving me, touching me…just ..like this –“  And the hands stroked him, squeezing his hot flesh and he could see it, could see himself there, on his knees, face pressed against the soft skin of the man’s groin as that hand stroked his head.

He shook his head to dispel the image.  “If you think it only takes a ring and a hand to break me, you’re sadly mistaken.”  The hand moved away and he swallowed another whimper as the warm back followed it, leaving him separate and alone. 

“Well, perhaps you need more training.”  He heard the rustle of leather, the swirl of something through the air and then the sharp bite of the leather on his back made him hiss.  It struck again, over his arse this time, and down his thighs and legs and back and it was a perfect hot anguish that blurred together into a wave that swallowed his senses.  Its touch was a key that released him to feel what life never normally allowed him to feel.

Helpless. 

Only this man’s touch gave him that freedom from himself.  Only a will as great as his own could know the pleasure of being relieved of the need to be strong.  With him he could sob and cry and release his control into safe hands.  But still he fought it, because it was in his nature to do so.

So he snarled and cursed, challenged and shouted and fought the human until his blood ran in streams down his legs to the ground, mingling with his sweat – until his bones and muscles ached and his head throbbed and the constant cries dried his throat to a croak.  And when, finally, all of the fight was sucked from him, until he was weaned of his courage like a child taken from the breast and forced into the real world – Varian stepped in front of him and took his face into both hands.  He didn’t fight the hold, let those deadly hands lift him so that Varian could press his lips to Garrosh’ cracked, dry mouth and taste his surrender.

“You belong to me, don’t you?” he whispered, thumbs stroking over the high-angled cheeks.  “My monstrous beast, my orc…”

Garrosh nodded tiredly, and the fingers dug into his chin.  “Say it.  Say you are mine.”

“I..am yours.  Master.”

 

 

 


End file.
